Opening Morning
by PhoenixAnkaa
Summary: On a warm summer morning a comforting talk between friends may just be the beginning of something more. AU one shot


_*Disclamer* I do not own any of the following characters, I have just borrowed them for a bit of "What If"._

**Opening Morning**

**by PhoenixAnkaa**

It was a beautiful summer morning that greeted the two friends as they walked the worn path that wound from the Burrow out to the orchard at the back of the property. It was still quite early, the sun was just starting to bend its rays over the horizon and the nights mists still hung heavy at their ankles; the world around them still yet to rouse and start its day. The only other sign of life was the soft voice of Celestina Warbeck wafting from the Wizarding Wireless sitting on the sill of the open kitchen window and the occasional sound of a pan being set on the cooker as Mrs. Weasley began her morning routine. The pair walked in silence until even those few sounds were lost to the morning calm.

"You know you didn't have to get up this early, I'm used to my morning walks alone."

"I know, but I wanted to. Anyway, I've always been a bit of an early riser myself."

"Not this early."

"No…" she hesitated "not quite this early."

"Thanks." He smiled, his eyes drifting to her to see the corners of her mouth lift in a matching smile.

As they reached the end of the path Harry gestured to an old weather polished oak stump, silently asking Hermione to sit with him. Once he was sure she was comfortable he sat in the damp morning grass, his back against the low stone wall that ran the outer edge of the orchard. Tilting his head back and closing his eyes Harry allowed a small sigh to escape his parted lips. The sun had fully cleared the horizon now and its rays were just beginning to show their promise of the day's heat. They sat that way for a time, not feeling a need to break the peace and quiet that surrounded them, both knowing that before too long they would have to rejoin the controlled chaos that was life at the Burrow.

Hermione took this time to really look at her friend in a way that she hadn't been able to in the past years. He was quite a bit taller now and his frame was more muscled than when she first met him, showing signs of the training he subjected himself to on a day to day basis. There was also very little of the round faced boy she remembered from that first day on the Hogwarts Express. In its place were slightly more chiseled features with a strong jaw line and firm brow that gave hints at the man he would become. Underneath it all though she could still see the same kind heart that drove an eleven year old boy to fight a fully grown mountain troll for a know-it-all bookworm he hardly knew.

She knew he took these walks every morning to help sort out his feelings for the events of the past year. She also knew that by her intruding on his musings there was a slim hope that he would open up to her. Of her two closest friends he was the one she couldn't read like an open book and that troubled her. She wanted so badly to be there for him, to help him through his pain, but she wouldn't push him in to it. Hermione knew that he would have to make the first move in letting down his barriers, but that didn't mean she wouldn't give him as many opportunities as she possibly could.

The shrill cry of a hawk circling overhead broke her from her wool gathering and as she again joined the world around her she found a pair of bright green eyes focusing on her.

"You know, I never did thank you." He said, breaking the silence.

"For what?"

"For believing in me when no one else did. For always being there when I needed you. For being a friend when I needed one. I don't know… for everything I guess. I don't think you'll ever know exactly how much it means to me."

"You don't have to thank me Harry; I do all that because I want to. You're my friend, my best friend really and you never have to thank me for that. You're welcome though."

"Best friend… friend…" Harry lamented "It feels strange saying that sometimes. I never really had any friends before coming to Hogwarts, Aunt Petunia and Dudley made sure of that."

Hermione remained quiet at Harry's comment, partially out of shock at hearing him be so open and partially hoping that this was his moment to finally share himself with her.

"When I was little, really little you know, like three or four, I thought there was something wrong with me. I never understood what I had done that the other kids didn't want to play with me. Not that I was allowed out much, even then my chores took up most of my time. But there were a few times I remember when no one was around to mind me or they didn't lock me in my cupboard that my Aunt and Uncle took me down to the play park with them. They'd spend the day pushing Dudley on the swings or the roundabout and I'd go off to find someone to play with."

Harry picked up a small stone and threw it towards a clump of brambles that was just inside the surrounding tree line.

" But no one would ever play with me. I'd come over and their parents would call them away, usually whispering something in their ear and giving me strange looks. It wasn't until I went to primary that I found out what Aunt Petunia had told the other parents that made them keep their kids away from the naughty boy that lived at number 4."

"Can I ask what she told them?"

"Oh you know, that my parents were drunks that lived on the dole or that they were petty criminals that would steal from others to keep up their habits. And that I took after them and that's why I was kept in the house like I was."

"That's awful! But why would they do that? You were just a little boy."

"I use to ask myself that all the time… what could I have possibly done to them to deserve the way they treated me. It wasn't until Hagrid picked me up that first time that I finally had my answer. And do you know what I realized that night?"

"No."

"Nothing…"

"Nothing?"

"Yeah… nothing. I hadn't done a thing. Because it wasn't me Aunt Petunia hated, it was my Mum. 'Perfect Lily' I think she called her that night. I'm sure it really ate at her that my mum was special and she wasn't."

"You think she really hated her that much?"

"Yeah I do. Really, I think she may have hated my Grandmum and Granddad for it too since I don't ever remember any mention of either of them growing up. Only problem was mum wasn't around for her to take her anger out on since she was dead. But then there I was, this constant reminder of the life she was jealous of. It was easier for her to take her hatred for my mum out on me than it was to get over it. Figuring that out actually made going back there during the summer hols a bit easier."

"Oh Harry… you…" she sniffed "you were eleven when you figured this out? I mean… how could knowing they disliked you for no reason have made going back there easier? I would think it would make it that much harder to go back."

"I can see how you would think that, and no, I wasn't eleven when I figured all that out. I was eleven when I figured it wasn't anything I had done. It wasn't until just recently that I put the rest of it together."

Hermione slipped down off her makeshift seat and joined Harry sitting in the cool grass. The morning sun had long dried the night's dew and she felt the need to be closer to him.

"But like I said, in a way knowing that it wasn't my fault really did make it easier. I didn't have to try anymore. I knew now that it wouldn't make a difference so I just did my chores and got on with it. No worries."

"Didn't have to try what Harry?"

"You know, didn't have to try and make them love me anymore." Harry paused

"When I was growing up I always thought if I did that one more chore, or cleaned a little bit better, or didn't cry when Dudley hit me that someday they would actually love me. But knowing that it didn't matter what I did took away that worry. I realized I was Harry Potter and that I didn't need to be loved by the Dursleys because my mum and dad were good people and that they had loved me. Plus I had something that no one could take away from me again."

Harry paused again and turned his head towards Hermione, with a smile on his face that could have lit Snape's Dungeon.

"I finally had friends… real friends… friends that Aunt Petunia and Dudley couldn't chase away. "

Reaching over Harry took Hermione's hand in his, shocking her nearly senseless. She couldn't recall him ever initiating this sort of personal contact in the past. It was a very pleasant surprise in her opinion.

"Not only that, but I found out that I had friends that really cared about me. Whether you realize it or not, you are the first person I can recall hugging me. I mean, I know my mum and dad would have hugged me as a babe, but I don't remember those. It was… well, it was… you know I don't even know how to put that feeling into words, that first time you hugged me. All I knew was I thought that this is what it felt like to be loved and I knew I would never be tired of that feeling."

Hermione smiled back at Harry and gave his hand an affectionate squeeze.

"Anytime you feel the need for a hug Harry, just let me know. Or you could always let Mrs. Weasley know…" She said with a giggle

"Yeah… as much as I like Mrs. Weasley's hugs, crushed ribs don't go well with Quidditch. Anyway, yours are much better." Harry turned away with his comment, a slight blush staining his cheeks.

"Thank you Harry, that means a lot coming from…"

Red sparks suddenly appeared above the trees followed by the magically enhanced voice of Molly Weasley.

"Breakfast…"

Hermione huffed, not ready to let the moment they were sharing pass, but knowing it was over nonetheless.

"I guess that's our que to head back."

"Yeah… probably. Unless we want the whole lot of 'em out searching for us."

"We definitely don't want that!"

"No, definitely not!"

Laughing, Harry stood and helped Hermione to her feet, not releasing her hand in the process. As they started the walk back he kept her hand in his gently entwining his fingers with hers.

As much as Hermione was not ready to head back to the Burrow, she was also pleasantly surprised that Harry had actually begun to open up to her. It wasn't much, but it was a start… for now. And if his continuing to hold her hand was any indication, it might just be a better start than she had hoped for.

The End…


End file.
